Violent Blossoming
by myauraispink
Summary: "You try so hard to be good, Granger." "I just want to help the world." "Maybe it's not good people who change the world. Maybe good intentions just lead to bigger messes." Draco Malfoy, an angry, hurt teenager is totally dismissive of people who seem to care about others. Except maybe for Granger. AU, All Human. Dark. Rated T for language and possibly adult themes.
1. Chapter 1: Beautiful Forests and Fake Co

Draco frowned as he stared at the picture in his hands. He'd drawn a beautiful sunset peeking through luscious green trees. It was a breathtaking forest seen, full of life and promise, and he hated it.

"Draco l?" His eyes snapped up. His caregiver, Luna, was standing far too close, far too quickly. She had been on the other side of the room only moments ago. "May I see?" Her voice was kind and boring, like usual.

Silently he handed her the paper. Her eyes widened and a bright smile exploded violently across her face. "It's beautiful. Draco l, it's wonderful!"

Draco forced his ambivalent expression to creep upward into his own bright smile. It used to be hard to pretend to smile; now it came easy. That was probably the biggest lesson he'd learn at New Moments. "Thank you," he forced out.

"How are you feeling today, Draco?"

Luna talked to Draco more than any other person at New Moments, and she always referred to him by name. It made disappearing into nothingness that much more difficult.

"I'm doing well," he answered politely, trying desperately to keep a happy note in his voice. That wasn't coming as quickly as the smiling was. "How about you?"

"I'm well," Luna answered.

_No you're not. You're –doing—well, you crazy hippie woman. _"Did you have a good evening?" The happy note had taken on a slightly manic tone. He would have to work on that.

If she noticed the untruths in his voice she ignored it. "I did. We went to the movies. How about you?"

He allowed his gaze to continue up, away from her eyes and towards the ceiling. Last night. Last night had been…unpleasant. There had been screaming and crying from down the hall. Someone might have been in trouble. He'd yanked a pillow over his ears and tried to disappear. Luna would not be impressed by that. He allowed his gaze to lower back to her face. "My foster parents called." His voice was nonchalant. Maybe a touch too clinical. Most fourteen year olds were probably happy to speak to their legal guardians after three months away.

"That's wonderful!"

Draco tried to avoid grimacing. He had the sense that if he had told Luna he had been attacked by mountain lions but had responded politely she would have squealed in joy. Talking to Arthur and Mollie, his _foster parents,_ was essentially the same level of danger and usefulness.

His silence never stopped her. "What did you talk about?"

He frowned. "They asked if I needed a haircut." His silver blonde hair was starting to get a bit shaggy, but that's just what happens when one is locked up in a centre with no sharp objects for three months.

If she was underwhelmed, she hid it well. "Well, it's been a few months. That's a reasonable question."

"They told me they loved me." As soon as the words past his lips he wished he could slap his hands over her ears to stop her from hearing.

"Draco," her voice had gone deathly somber.

_We're in a place for sick people, not a cemetery. I'm pretty sure I've been repeatedly told that there's a difference._

"Draco," she said again when he made no response. "You know that's true. They care about you; they just want to help you." There was a small pause. "And look!" she said excitedly. She held up the forest scene he had dutifully sketched. "Look how beautiful! Look at the progress you're making!"

The manic smile was back on his lips. It was almost starting to feel comfortable.


	2. Chapter 2: Jello Choices and Chocolate

Draco sighed as he gazed around the lunchroom. One would think the idea of cliques in a place like New Moments would be escapable, but even here the arbitrarily popular sick kids all grouped together. The rest usually sat alone or with caretakers. One young woman named Luna, about fifteen maybe, was wandering from person to person. Draco smirked. This was a daily occurance. Her voice sang across the cafeteria.

"Do do you have two dollars, Mister?" she'd approached an older man who looked to be visiting. Probably some sort of religious guy.

"I'm sorry?" He looked startled. They always did. With her wild blonde hair sticking up in every direction, her intense blue-eyed gaze, and her lack of shoes or socks on the cement floor, Luna was certainly startling.

"Two dollars! For chocolate! Please!"

Luna would ask for money for the vending machines that were located in the front lobby of New Moments. Inevitably someone new or visiting New Moments would be what they thought was a Good Samaritan and kindly hand her the requested two dollars, in which case she would promptly make a break for the lobby, get stopped by security, and have a screaming fit. While Draco could not consider anyone in New Moments a friend, he could not help being fond of Lunda.

Draco glanced past Luna and caught Lydia's eye across the room. She was smiling and waving him toward her. Quickly he looked away and casually got into line as if he had not see her.

The food smelled bland like normal, but Draco was certainly hungry today. Mrs. Pinch, the disheveled nurse who distributed the food dropped discoloured macaroni onto his place and he was ushered down.

"Would you like green or red jello?" a timid voice asked. Draco glanced up from the row of juice boxes he had been selecting from.

Jello was usually distributed by Francis, a very heavyset, very old, and very male orderly. Standing in Francis's place was a young girl, around Draco's age, maybe slightly younger. She had thick, messy brown hair and wide, protrubent brown eyes that looked absolutely terrified.

"Francis never gives us a choice." Draco shut his mouth instantly. _What a stupid thing to say. Just order the damn jello._

"I'm sorry, I don't know who Francis is. Today's my first day." her voice was still timid, but high pitched and sweet. He was reminded of a dove in the city. Terrified and out of place, but uncorrupted and innocent.

"He usually gives out the jello. You work here? How old are you?"

"I'm...I'm fourteen. I'm just volunteering." Her nervousness was practically palpable.

Draco frowned. New Moments had a lot of influx of new volunteers. They would come for one week, have one experience with someone like Luna and never return. All the volunteers he had seen before were at least in their twenties. "They let a fourteen year old volunteer?"

She looked down. "Well, I can't work...work with patients or anything." Her eyes snapped back up and she bit her lip nervously. "I'm just allowed to do the jello," she whispered.

"Oh." Now Draco felt awkward. He glanced behind him. There were a few stragglers starting to come through the line, but he had been so late to lunch no one was near the jello table yet.

"So...so.." her voice caught. "Red jello or...or green?"

Draco glanced at the sugary lump of gelatin. "I hate jello," he said bluntly. His eyes flew to her face again. He hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings. She still just looked scared and out of place.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

_Oh come on, make her feel better. It's not her fault you're a buffoon. _"Sorry," Draco sad awkwardly. He blushed and looked down. There was a pause. He wanted to leave, but he didn't know how. While teaching him to smile was one thing, New Moments had never even touched talking to girls.

Suddenly a scream erupted from the right of the room. Draco glanced over. Luna was being held down by two expressionless security guards while she flailed and kicked and screamed, trying to force her way through the door. A nurse was already starting to inject her with a sedative.

Draco glanced back at the jello volunteer and was momentarily surprised to see her frozen and shocked expression. Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes, glazed over, watched as they carried Luna away.

He couldn't explain it, but he pitied the poor girl with the jello. "Don't worry about it. She just wants chocolate. It happens everyday."

The girl slowly lowered her hand and forced her eyes to return to Draco's face. "Chocolate?" she asked.

"Yeah. There're vending machines outside."

She looked down thoughtfully. Draco waited for the scream, for her to walk away, for her judgement. Instead she glanced back up. "Does she ever get any?"

"What?"

"Does she ever get any chocolate?"

Draco looked at her face to see if she was joking. She didn't appear to be, but what did he know about brpwn-haired girls with jello? "No, they always stop her."

"I don't understand." Her voice was so soft Draco had to take a step towards the glass case of jello she hid behind. "Why don't they just give her chocolate?"

Draco frowned. For three months Draco had watched Luna's attempts and never even considered it. He was at first distracted by everyone's acceptance of the issue, and by now he had fallen into the same easy pattern as the rest of them. "What's your name?" he asked.

Her cheeks reddened but she silently lifted the nametag lanyard she wore. Written in shaky handwriting was the name "Hermione G."

He nodded. "You?" her voice was unsure.

He glanced at her and blushed again. "Draco," he whispered.

"Nice to meet you Draco."

He nodded, forced an uneasy smile, grabbed a juicebox and turned and walked away. As he walked two thoughts dominated his mind. The first thought was analyzing every moment of his conversation with Hermione, and the soft, honest way she had said her final statement. The second thought, fighting equally hard, was quiet but firm. _Why _don't_ they just give Luna chocolate?_

It was after midnight but Draco had yet to fall asleep. He had tried every possible position on the bed to no avail. While he might as well have been sleeping on a long, wooden plank, it was not the uncomfortable mattress keeping him awake; it was the shrill, terrified screams from down the hall. It was long and drawn out and in pain.

With a growl of frustration, he pulled the pillow over his left ear and lay down on his right side, with his right ear pressed firmly into the mattress.

The screams seemed louder. It was like they were reverberating through the floorboards, up the metal posts of his bed, past the bland grey bed sheets, and directly through his ear canals into his brain.

_Just shut up, just shut up, just shut up. _The screams did not occur every night, but they occurred frequently enough that the mantra was very familiar. _Just shut up just shut up just shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut_

The words no longer held meaning to him; he just kept thinking them over and over until somehow the screams seemed quieter and the phrase seemed soothing.

Before New Moments Draco had had angry, violent dreams – dreams he could not even explain or even begin to understand. They were filled with monsters that tore through the town and bit and burnt and broke everything Draco cared about – from his family to his pets to his favourite books. They were colourful, bright reds and purples and blues with angry bloody mouths. They were silent; merely destroying the world from inside out while Draco watched helplessly. In the dreams he never ran but he never fought them either; he just stayed, frozen and cold in fear while repeatedly losing everything he loved.

Since coming to New Moments, those dreams had been replaced by very calm dreams. They were calm, but they certainly were not peaceful. One night he dreamed he was running down a street where everyone moved in slow motion and no one noticed him. He yelled and ran, but they continued so slowly, so lifelessly. The colours in these dreams were no longer bright and angry, they were muted and pale.

Tonight he dreamed of Luna.

She was running towards the lobby of New Moments, and she was screaming. No one had stopped her yet, but still she screamed, high pitched and terrified. For an instant he wanted to help her, but soon she was enveloped in a sea of faceless security guards, and the impulse to help deadened.

Nearby a scared girl with wild brown hair watched, her eyes filled with pity.


End file.
